Susan's "subject matter, context and medium...present a coherent artistic vision"
John Torreano, Clinical Professor of Studio Art, NYU

"Great stuff. Love your work."
Seymour Chwast

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Sunday, December 11, 2011

Last Walk

There is a gaping wound
where my heart once was.
I thought it would eventually close up
and something similar to a heart
might grow back.
What used to be my heart
is a huge aperture now
and is no longer heart shaped.
The resultant gap is filled
with chilly air,
which does not help me breathe,
but chills me to the core.

The emptiness has taken over now
eliminating my torso altogether.
My remains consist of
my head above the empty space
and my legs beneath it.

My head: in which I can recall
the enchanting days
with my golden girl.
My eyes: which sight a fluffy white phantom
swimming toward me in the lake and, of course,
my lips: which call out her name,

Bella ...
Bella ...
Belle of the Ball ...

in case she gets lost on her last walk.

But she won't,
for I still have my legs
beneath the spot that was my heart,

and I will walk with her
until the end of time.


  1. Bella was the best girl ever

  2. We are never really ready when the time comes. Sweet girl, your Bella

  3. Bella is still here, though you do not see her. She is right by your side each night and day, and within your heart ...